"Knowing Richard," Thorne said, "he probably just missed his plane, or forgot that he was supposed to be back here today for final approvals. And we're pretty much finished here. When you see we're down to the exterior struts and the upholstery, the fact is, we're done. He's going to hold us up. It's very inconsiderate of him." The phone rang, repeated electronic beeps. "If I can't get through to him, I'll try Sarah Harding."
"Sarah Harding?" Kelly asked, looking up.
Arby said, "Who's Sarah Harding?"
"Only the most famous young animal behaviorist in the world, Arb." Sarah Harding was one of Kelly's personal heroes. Kelly had read every article she could about her. Sarah Harding had been a poor scholarship student at the University of Chicago but now, at thirty-three, she was an assistant professor at Princeton. She was beautiful and independent, a rebel, who went her own way. She had chosen the life of a scientist in the field, living alone in Africa, where she studied lions and hyenas. She was famously tough. Once, when her Land Rover broke down, she walked twenty miles across the savannah all by herself, driving away lions by throwing rocks at them.
In photographs, Sarah was usually posed in shorts and a khaki shirt, with binoculars around her neck, next to a Land Rover. With her short, dark hair and her strong, muscular body, she looked rugged but glamorous at the same time. At least, that was how she appeared to Kelly, who always studied the pictures intently, taking in every detail.
"Never heard of her," Arby said.
Thorne said, "Spending too much time with computers, Arby?"
Arby said, "No." Kelly saw Arby's shoulders hunch, and he sort of withdrew into himself, the way he always did when he felt criticized. Sulky, he said, "Animal behaviorist?"
"That's right," Thorne said. "I know Levine's talked to her several times in the last few weeks. She's helping him with all this equipment, when it finally goes into the field. Or advising him. Or something. Or maybe the connection is with Malcolm. After all, she was in love with Malcolm."
"I don't believe it", Kelly said. "Maybe he was in love with her...."
Thorne looked at her. "You've met her?"
"No. But I know about her."
"I see." Thorne said no more. He could see all the signs of hero worship, and he approved. A girl could do worse than admire Sarah Harding. At least she wasn't an athlete or a rock star. In fact, it was refreshing for a kid to admire somebody who actually tried to advance knowledge.
The phone continued to ring. There was no answer.
"Well, we know Levine's equipment is in order," Thorne said. "Because the call is going through. We know that much."
Arby said, "Can you trace it?"
"Unfortunately, no. And if we keep this up, we'll probably drain the field battery, which means- "
There was a click, and they heard a man's voice, remarkably distinct and clear: "Levine."
"Okay. Good. He's there," Thorne said, nodding. He pushed the button on his handset. "Richard? It's Doc Thorne."
Over the speakerphone, they heard a sustained static hiss. Then a cough, and a scratchy voice said: "Hello? Hello? It's Levine here."
Thorne pressed the button on his phone. "Richard. It's Thorne. Do you read me?"
"Hello?" Levine said, at the other end. "Hello?"
Thorne sighed. "Richard. You have to press the 'T' button, for transmit. Over."
"Hello?" Another cough, deep and rasping. "This is Levine. Hello?"
Thorne shook his head in disgust. "Obviously, be doesn't know how to work it. Damn! I went over it very carefully with him. Of course he wasn't paying attention. Geniuses never pay attention. They think they know everything. These things aren't toys." He pushed the send button. "Richard, listen to me. You must push the 'T' in order to - "
"This is Levine. Hello? Levine. Please. I need help." A kind of groan. "If you can hear me, send help. Listen, I'm on the island, I managed to get here all right, but - "
A crackle. A hiss.
"Uh-oh," Thorne said.
"What is it?" Arby said, leaning forward.
"We're losing him."
"Why?"
"Battery," Thorne said. "It's going fast. Damn. Richard: where are you?"
Over the speakerphone, they heard Levine's voice: " - dead already - situation got - now - very serious - don't know - can hear me, but if you - get help - "
"Richard. Tell us where you are!"
The phone hissed, the transmission getting steadily worse. They heard Levine say: " - have me surrounded, and - vicious - can smell them especially - night - "
"What is he talking about?" Arby said.
" - to - injury - can't - not long - please - "
And then there was a final, fading hiss.
And suddenly the phone went dead.
Thorne clicked off his own handset, and turned off the speakerphone. He turned to the kids, who were both pale. "We have to find him," he said. "Right away."
SECOND CONFIGURATION
"Self-organization elaborates in complexity as the
system advances toward the chaotic edge."
IAN MALCOLM
Clues
Thorne unlocked the door to Levine's apartment, and flicked on the lights. They stared, astonished. Arby said, "It looks like a museum!"
Levine's two-bedroom apartment was decorated in a vaguely Asian style, with rich wooden cabinets, and expensive antiques. But the apartment was spotlessly clean, and most of the antiques were housed in plastic cases. Everything was neatly labeled. They walked slowly into the room.